VOSHN 133

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="125"><tr><td class="etesti">125</td><td class="edate">August 8<sup>th</sup> - 9<sup>th</sup>, 1945</td><td class="eage">35 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>Gray objects.</td></tr></table><div class="largep"><p>I got my whole body burned, flash-burned, and my hands and feet were numbed.  I went to the rescue camp for treatment.  Wearing my straw sandals, I managed to walk with a bamboo stick.  My steps were as slow as of an ant.</p><br><p>On the way to the camp, there were crowds of people on the street, who were waiting for the treatments.  They were being laid on wooden panels or straw mats.  These lines of people could be seen all the way down along the street under the blazing sun.  They were, you know, like gray objects, which I couldn't tell if they were dead or alive.</p><br><p>Their hairs were burned bald, and their eyes were burned smashed.  Human figures like gray-colored small children were lying on wooden panels or straw mats.  None of them could open their eyes, of course.  They were waiting for the treatments in line all the way down the street.</p><br><p>When I saw this sight, I thought," My wounds are nothing in comparison with theirs.  I don't deserve the medical treatment."</p><p>Although I managed to walk with the bamboo sticks all the way to the rescue camp with the slow ant-like steps, I came back to the place I came from as slowly as an ant again.</p></div></body>